Chapter 89, Downing Street, 20 September 1940
Halifax wrestled with his collar stud for the fortieth time as he dressed in a lighter lounge suit than the formal, stiff, suit worn for his meetings during the day. He was in an irritable mood as a financial briefing by Stanley had massively overrun, leaving him with precious little time to relax before his dinner party. It had been Dorothy’s idea to hold a ‘friends of the Prime Minister’ celebratory dinner a week after the election, giving the husband she doted upon a chance to relax amongst his good friends. And so the invitations had gone out, for nothing too grand but an informal, relaxed supper. As Halifax finished dressing, with Cole’s assistance, he frowned as there was a knock at the door.
“My darling, our guests are starting to arrive.”
Halifax sighed. “Vewy well, my dear, I am ready.”
Together the Halifaxes received their guests, and took their seats in the Dining Room. After the trials of the election the Prime Minister could finally relax. There was Butler, of course, the ever loyal protégé, and the only other member of the Cabinet to be present, as Dunlgass, a polite young man who had served as Halifax’s Private Secretary, was of ministerial rank. Lascelles, glad to have been assistance in smoothing ruffled feathers when King and First Minister disagreed, arrived from Balmoral where he had been enjoying the gorgeous summer weather. Halifax had also invited Walter Monckton, a personal friend whose closeness to Halifax had weathered many storms from their contrasting positions in the abdication crisis (Monckton had been the legal advisor to Edward VIII) to the ongoing saga of the Japanese threat in the Pacific. Halifax found him excellent company and had a request to ask of him.
“We have warned Walter, have we not?” Halfiax looked sharply at Butler.
“Yes, My Lord, he knows what to expect.”
The group sat down to an excellent dinner. Grouse, sent by the King with his (handwritten) letter of congratulation from Balmoral was served with an excellent wine in a relaxed atmosphere. Though it was a balmy summer’s evening the guests seemed comfortable enough. Conversation soon turned to Winston Churchill, who, following his massively reduced majority and continued opposition to Halifax, was proudly ‘in the wilderness’, attacking Halifax for neglecting Bomber Command.
“He’s always tried to cause trouble,” Butler opined to Lady Halifax. “A half-breed American, with no loyalty to the Prime Minister.”
Lady Halifax bit back a retort that Butler’s own loyalty was a matter of debate between her and her husband. “But, surely, Mr Butler, he was an effective First Lord?”
“Pah! The biggest Navy in the world to follow his every word and he comes a cropper invading Norway. Only Winston could have failed so spectacularly. Gallipoli, Norway, thank God he won’t be causing any further great British disasters! Now all he can do is make speeches in the House about us not building a heavy bomber force!”
The mild blasphemy offended Lady Halifax, who deduced that Butler was rapidly becoming drunk. Her husband, sensing his wife’s distress, went to her aid. “His patwiotism was never in question,” he muttered softly, regretting that he and Churchill would seemingly never find a common understanding. “He was the wogue elephant out of the three senior members of the Government. The two other elephants had to keep him marching with us.”
Butler moved to say something but caught the disapproval in Halifax’s expression. It was later, when the ladies had retired and the gentlemen lingered over the table with port (Halifax preferred this to Brandy) and cigars that Halifax, in the spirit of Edwardian patronage, turned to his friend.
“Walter, I have been wemiss. You know that you and I are good fwiends.”
“Of course, Prime Minister, the very best of friends!”
“I am sure that Wab,” Halifax gestured to Butler, who had fallen asleep in the chair opposite, “has bwiefed you. Will you accept the charge of your countwy?”
“I am delighted of course, but why on Earth have you picked me?”
“Because, you know me, and you know that when you arrive over there they will expect you to be able to interpwet our actions and intentions. I need a man that knows these things with natuwal instinct.”
“Has His Majesty” Monckton, full of diligent concern, looked thoughtful, “been consulted on the appointment?” Lascelles, already prepared, smiled.
“His Majesty is delighted for you, Walter,” he confirmed.
Butler had been pre-prepared to chime in with a comment but as he continued snoring Dunglass took up his role. “And we’ve had discussions over there, Sir.” The ‘Sir’ was technically not necessary, but Monckton was a friend of Lord Halifax and Dunglass was careful to show respect. “They are delighted with the selection and look forward to your arrival.”
“Am I qualified? Surely a diplomat…”
“Would function cowwectly, in the pwoper channels. No, I need a man as a diwect link between our two nations and their leaders.”
Monckton looked down as he thought about this difficult appointment. He was still reasonably young, not yet fifty, and knew that he had ambitions still to fulfil. A talented lawyer, he had hoped of serving in a Government legal appointment before another challenging ministry. This position would prepare him well, and confirm his suitability for high office. He also saw the desperation in his friend’s eyes, the pleading looks for him to accept. Dunglass, sensing his acceptance, pressed him gently on behalf of Halifax.
“Sir, do you accept?”
“Yes, yes I will of course be delighted to go.” Dunglass and Lascelles smiled, whilst Halifax raised his glass.
“Gentlemen, may I pwopose a toast. To His Britannic Majesty’s Ambassador to Germany.” They repeated the toast. “May he succeed in maintaining the peace between our two nations.”
“Are the Germans sending an ambassador over here?” That was Lascelles, terrified of another Ribbentrop.
Halifax nodded. “They have confirmed to Rab that a new ambassador will be joining us as their man in London.” Halifax then turned to Monckton.
“Walter, I must pwess upon you one thing. Wibbentwop is coming over here soon, and I intend to voice our concerns over this Womania business.”
Monckton closed his eyes. The sudden abdication of King Carol had come of something of a surprise and had drawn only muted comment from a Britain in the grip of an election. Cadogan and the Foreign Office had noted the territorial concessions forced upon the Romanians; losses in Bessarabia and Transylvania had been brutally pushed on them, and Halifax’s stomach tightened at the British misreading of the situation. Far from pulling Romania away from the German orbit, it seemed that Antonescu was growing closer to Germany with each new day.
“What is my official opinion My Lord?”
“That the tewwitowial integrity be pweserved. I accept that Trianon was a measure perhaps too harsh, but the dictatorial demands of Womania’s neighbours is too much.”
“But, with the provisions of the Milan Treaty...”
“I may offer little more than muted dissapwoval, yes Walter I am ever weminded of the pwice of our agweement with Germany. But I will voice our dismay. It has been suggested that we hold a confewence to decide the borders of Europe once and for all.”
Monckton thought he could detect the work of Butler (technically about to become his immediate superior as Foreign Secretary) and feared for Halifax if another humiliating conference saw Britain acquiesce to a ‘scramble for Europe’. He put an a hand gently on Halifax’s arm.
“What is it?”
“My Lord, Edward,” he said softly. “I cannot see you contemplate this. Think of what Munich did for Neville. It is too soon.”
Halifax pursed his lips. “Perhaps you are right.”
[Game Effect] – And so, months after Milan, full diplomatic relations are restored. Of course the embassies would have reopened as soon as the war ended, but I think that the exchange of ambassadors would have waited until after the election. For Halifax I think this would have been an agonising choice; given his ‘back-door’ approach to ending the war I think that this would have continued, avoiding a career diplomat in favour of a personal appointment. Enter Monckton, throughout Halifax’s time as Foreign Secretary a source of friendship and advice and just the kind of calm head that Halifax would want in that most difficult of diplomatic missions. Butler’s slumber is highly symbolic – Halifax has again acted independent of his Foreign Minister.
I’ve made a gossipy reference to Winston – Butler’s views on him are well-known and are recorded elsewhere in the AAR. Lady Halifax was always wary of him and gave him the bollocking of his life in 1940 when she became aware of her husband’s imminent ‘banishment’ to Washington. Churchill is still clearly active, down but not out and embarrassing Halifax by denouncing his defence plans.
Of course Romania’s carving-up by her neighbours go largely unnoticed until is far too late. Now with a militarist government in place Romania will become increasingly under German influence.
Enewald: There will be diplomatic action – as you can see from this post. But Halifax is also exceptionally wary of ‘another Munich’. As he is fully aware of his shortcomings in the charisma stakes this is probably a wise move.
Sir Humphrey: Eden was of course married twice. His first wife, from everything I read of her, makes Lady Macbeth seem like an expenses-paid five star holiday in the Maldives. A lot of their estrangement was undeniably caused by the war and the strains of losing a son, but I think that the cracks were already there and the difficulties experienced by Eden during the election would have strained the marriage.